Phantom
by LucinaBlade
Summary: Following the whirlwind romance of a young dancer, a demon, and his brother, Phantom is my take on the classic Phantom of the Opera story. (But you know me, I'm doing my own thing with this. Lots of non-canonical stuff. Also- I'm not caught up on Supernatural! There will most likely be some little mistakes with characters, so if you notice it and it bugs you, lemme know. Destiel.)
1. Introduction

The theater was dark, massive velvet curtains blanketing the barely-visible stage. The large candle-basins at the edge of the stage lay dormant and unused, the ceiling dripping water from decades of neglect. The walls were stained with water, odd splotches of various different sizes and shapes that masked the once-vibrantly decorated wallpaper.

And it was quiet, the largest oddity of them all. The absence of sound itself was the theater's most obvious blight, the empty seats and dressing rooms a statement of disparity and woe.

There was no one there.

No prima donnas to irk the managers, no clumsy dancers being whipped into shape by impatient choreographers, and no patrons chittering eagerly in their seats as they awaited the performance before them.

A wizened old man, his face drooping with age and sorrow, entered the dilapidated theater. He looked about gravely, his face not showing a shred of emotion. He was as silent as the room he sat in, the quiet not disturbed by his presence. His wife, a tall and stately woman, entered beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder and startling him out of his memories.

His memories… a place where the stage was powerfully illuminated by the firelight, where there were always people bustling about in search of this or that, where the curtains practically shone their bright scarlet red across the room.

Sam Winchester remembered the fateful night years ago, when the stage was lit and the sounds of a bustling theater resonated in his young ears, and an angel fell for a demon.


	2. Chapter 1

April 1919

The thumping sound of dancers on wooden floors was heard throughout the corridors of the opera house as the managers prepared for the evening's performance. The orchestra practiced their numbers for what sounded like the millionth time, the band playing along to the tentative drag of bows over strings.

The room where Castiel stayed hummed with nervous energy, his anxious hums filling the empty space. His hands wrung together as he waited for Sam, the head choreographer and his foster brother. Since the death of his father when he was a boy, Castiel had stayed in the opera house and worked. Before Sam discovered his talent for dancing and singing, he had done odd jobs around the theater that mostly involved cleaning. After Sam's discovery, Castiel had been integrated into the operas put on as a dancer.

Sam knew it was his deepest desire to sing, to please his tutor. Sam, after many years, still did not know why _he_ chose Castiel to take under his wing. The choreographer chose not to ask, favoring the path of watching the boy he'd taken in flourish into a talented vocalist. Sam's caretaker, Bobby, had approved of Sam taking in Castiel, so he stayed. Over the years, Sam and Castiel became closer than most blood brothers ever were.

Castiel was snapped out of his memories by three stiff knocks on his door. It opened to reveal Sam, looking uncomfortable in his tuxedo. Castiel chuckled knowingly at his companion, remembering the time Sam had gotten drunk on cheap liquor and confessing his hatred of suits.

"Hey, Cas. Rehearsal time. Someone has to show those incompetent twits how it's done, eh?"

Castiel smiled at the nickname and praise, rising from the stool he'd been sitting on. He was short in comparison to Sam, but it never bothered him.

"Yes, Sam. I suppose someone must bear the burden of talent."

Sam laughed heartily.

"Careful, Cas. You're starting to sound like Gabriel."

Gabriel was the _prima donna_ of the company. A self-absorbed young man, Gabriel was the sort to seek revenge if his demands were not met to the letter. He would play devious tricks on anyone who spoke a word wrong to him, usually resulting in discomfort and headache but never injury. His nickname among the company was the Trickster, and rightfully so.

Cas shuddered at the reprimand, the thought of becoming such a thorn in someone's side so unappealing to him. He shoved Sam's shoulder and Sam tousled his dark half-formed curls. The two walked to the dance studio side by side, detouring to the theater to hear the musical accompaniment. Gabriel stood onstage, squawking out an aria for two stout, elderly men standing beside the manager.

Sam sighed, muttering the words "new management" under his breath. Cas watched with half-formed interest as Gabriel's voice cracked on a high note, making him wince. Suddenly, a prop background toppled forward and hit him in the legs, forcing him to topple over rather unceremoniously. He screamed loudly, cursing as he violently shoved the slab of wood off of his legs. He staggered to his feet, whirling around looking for anyone looking guilty.

When he could find no one to accuse, he angrily marched over to the three men on the other side of the stage.

"You," he began, teeth gritted, "will find whoever is responsible. I _will_ know who just attempted to _cripple_ me before a performance!"

The manager, John Winchester, sighed heavily.

"Gabriel, I am certain no one was attempting to injure you. No investigation will be needed."

Gabriel huffed, stomping offstage with his fists balled at his sides.

Sam looked over to Castiel, who watched the ongoing events with a small, sarcastic smile.

"My father seems to be in a good mood as usual, doesn't he?" Sam said.

In addition to being the theater's manager, John Winchester was father to Sam. Due to his busy schedule and very un-paternal nature, Bobby had remained more of a father to the boys than John was ever able to.

John sighed again.

"We have just _lost_ our star. I don't much feel in the groveling mood, and I am assuming neither of you feel like begging him to return either. So _now_ what in the hell are we going to do?"

Sam looked down on Cas, who was oblivious to Sam's train of thought.

Sam piped up from the back of the theater, words that would change Castiel's fate.

"Castiel could sing for them, father."

John looked over at Sam just as Cas did, two vastly different expressions on their faces. John looked at Sam with interest and mild surprise at his son's suggestion; Cas looked at Sam in shock and fear. Sam grabbed Castiel's arm, half dragging him to the stage.

"Come on, Cas," he whispered, guiding the young man to the stage, "you _want_ to sing. You're _dying_ in dance rehearsals. It would make _him_ happy, too."

Castiel's face turned bright red and he allowed Sam to guide him up the steps. He took his place in the center of the stage, inhaling sharply at the perspective. He glanced at John, who replied with an encouraging nod.

He opened his mouth and began to sing, soft and sweet at first but building in strength and sonority as his confidence soared.

He opened his eyes at the end of his aria, his heart racing and his breath coming in swift puffs. John was nodding, pleased, and the two new managers stared at him openmouthed.

John sent a wink at Castiel before speaking.

"You'll fill in just fine, Castiel. Sam, I trust you'll prepare him?"\

Sam grinned at Castiel as he replied.

"Of course, father. He'll be ready by tonight."

Cas walked offstage, dizzy with the high of performing.

Sam shoved him lightly, sending him stumbling a few steps.

"You didn't tell me you were hiding such an amazing voice, Cas. What else are you hiding from me?" Sam teased.

"Nothing, Sam. My voice is, alas, my final secret. I am now a _completely_ open book."

Sam led Cas to his room, bidding him good luck with his performance later.

When Sam left, Cas slumped against the door, running a hand through his hair and sighing.

He was the _star._

 **Author's Note- Hello lovelies! I am yet again forced to admit that** _ **high school is hard!**_ **I've been taking some time off of writing (something I deeply regret having to do, but my grades are unfortunately a bit more important than my writing at this point) and catching up on things outside of school. But I am back! I may still be on an** _ **incredibly**_ **erratic updating schedule, but I am going to try to stick with it. The thing is, writing for all of you is something I take so much pride in. It takes a lot of courage to stick your words on the internet for other people to see, and I'm so glad that a lot of you enjoy my take on all of these stories. In response to other potential questions-**

 **Yes, I will likely be continuing updates on old unfinished works. I'll have to get back into the groove on those, but I'll see what I can do.**

 **Yes, I take requests! If you have an idea for a one-shot fic that I can safely rate T (that means nothing of a sexual nature, you're going to have to find someone else for that) then please feel free to send me a message! I don't bite. I promise.**

 **Yes, I do read all of my reviews! I wish I had time to reply to all of them because you all are so kind and encouraging, but usually I don't get the time to. I do, however, appreciate any and all reviews and constructive criticism I get. By letting me know what works and what doesn't, you're helping me improve my writing quality. So thanks.**

 **I wish I could shake all of your hands or give you a hug, because you (just by reading!) make me** _ **so**_ **happy. Unfortunately, this is the internet. I can't hug you through my laptop.**


	3. Chapter 2

As it turned out, singing on stage in front of a huge audience was not something that could make a man collapse in fear. The white suit with its silver filigree glinting in the bright light made Castiel's figure on stage look ethereal, like he was glowing brightly in the midst of the darker backdrop.

The high of performance stuck with him, his face cut into a smile as he sang the lyrics he'd memorized so long before in the hopes that his moment would come.

A lady sitting up in one of the boxes looked down curiously on the man singing so passionately on stage. In the years before his father's death, she'd known Castiel to be a gangly boy with the reflexes of a bloated elephant and a weak immune system, but clearly he'd aged well. She smoothed her manicured hands on her heavy blue gown, nodding appreciatively at the stage. The new managers watched her eagerly, as she was a wealthy woman who could sponsor them and pull the theater from the clutches of debt.

She turned to the managers, nodding concisely.

"I will offer my support to you. That man, on the stage. What is his name?"

The men laughed giddily.

"Who, Castiel? Our new prodigy? Our rising star? You know him, Ms…?"

"Masters, sirs. Meg Masters. We were… childhood friends. Is there a possibility I could see him? After the performance? To offer my congratulations, of course."

The managers nodded together.

"But of course, your wish is our command!"

Meg smiled genially, nodding at the reply. She turned her focus back to Castiel, who was finishing another song. He bowed humbly, walking offstage.

Sam greeted Castiel after his performance, the sound of the standing ovation still ringing in his ears. Sam fiercely hugged the performer, whispering a message in his ear that left his head spinning.

" _He's proud of you, Cas."_

Sam pulled back, clapping the smaller man on the back. Cas grinned, walking down the long hallway to the dressing room he stayed in. He stepped inside, giddily breathing a sigh through his pursed lips.

After a moment, a knock was heard on the mirror at the back of the room. Cas stepped closer, eagerly awaiting the inevitable exchange.

A gravelly and deep voice echoed through the small space, sending a chill down Castiel's spine.

" _Bravo, my protégé. Bravo."_

Cas grinned, stepping to the mirror and pressing his hand to the mirror.

"Thank you, Angel."

A knock sounded on his door, startling him away from the mirror. The door cracked open, revealing someone Castiel thought he would never see again.

" _Meg?"_

She smiled widely, stepping into his room.

"It _is_ you, Castiel. You were amazing tonight."

He smiled, gesturing for her to take a seat at the small table in the corner.

"Meg, how have you been? It has been far too long. You must tell me news of home."

Meg covered his hands on the table with her own, looking Cas in the eyes and smiling softly.

"I would love to, Castiel. But not… _here_. Perhaps over dinner? A treat for the star of the show."

Cas pulled his hands back and looked at her apologetically.

"I can't, Meg. He's very strict. I am _sure_ he'll want to speak to me."

Meg looked at him, a confused expression on her face.

"Cas, who is _he_?"

He smiled.

"Meg, do you remember my father? And the stories he told us of the angels?"

"Yes, Castiel, how could I forget?"

He continued.

"Father promised me before he died that he would send the Angel of Music to me, to guide me. And he _did_ , Meg, he truly did. He has taught me to sing, the way you heard me tonight!"

Meg laughed.

"Silly Castiel. Angels aren't real. But I am, and I want to take you out. I'll meet you outside."

With that, she stepped outside with a flirtatious wink.

As soon as the sound of her receding footsteps dimmed, Cas heard a growl behind the mirror.

"That _bitch._ Attempting to _steal away_ my star. How _dare she? How dare she bask in my success?_ "

Cas walked back to the mirror, laying a hand on the cool, smooth surface.

"I hear you, angel. She is a childhood friend, nothing more."

He heard a sigh behind the mirror.

"I still dislike it, her coming into your sanctuary and attempting to _seduce_ you. Castiel, you mustn't go see her. Something isn't right here."

Cas nodded resolutely.

"I wasn't planning on it. Your company is far more appealing, even if I have never seen you."

"Perhaps it is time to change that. It is, after all, a special occasion."

Castiel sucked in a deep breath. The mirror slid away, revealing a dark figure at first, but as he stepped into the light of the dressing room, Cas was able to see him clearly for the first time.

The angel wore all black, from his polished shoes to his swishing cape. Half of his face was covered by a white mask, but the other half was practically marble-cut. A square jaw, full lips, and forest-green eyes. In a word, he was stunning, and Castiel's face showed the awe he felt.

The angel chuckled, evidently pleased by his student's reaction.

He stretched out a gloved hand for Castiel to take, half-ducking through the mirror frame.

"Will you come with me, my Castiel?"

Cas took his hand, allowing the angel to pull him through the frame.

The mirror slid into place behind them, and Castiel followed the angel's pull into the dark corridor behind the dressing room mirror.


End file.
